


Impractical

by SplatPhan



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: ?? just a bit tho, Awkwardness, Cum Play, Fingering, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Masturbation, Maybe - Freeform, Mutual Masturbation, Overstimulation, Phil in glasses, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, i mean i guess you could take it in kind of an fwb thing, weird metaphors, what was i thinking like actually this is so bad, where the fuck?, who the fuck, why the fuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2015-10-25
Packaged: 2018-04-28 01:19:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5072422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SplatPhan/pseuds/SplatPhan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>yo whats up homesizzles</p><p>im never gonna say that again </p><p>howd you like it??? please comment if you have like questions or recommendations or anything idk bye</p></blockquote>





	Impractical

Fuck Phil Lester.

Fuck Phil Lester and his perfect hair, and his perfect smirk, and his perfect glasses, and his seemingly millions of perfect plaid shirts.

Fuck Phil Lester and the way he makes Dan feel, because at 2 a.m., when Dan hasn't been able to sleep and the moonlight is filtering through his windows to land and scatter once it reaches his skin, his best friend is the only thing occupying his annoyingly horny mindset. If Dan weren't certain Phil was asleep, the thought would never have even entered his head, but Phil snores sometimes when he's having a good dream and the sounds coming from across the hall are certainly nasaly enough to mean that he's far enough under that he won't hear a thing.

Dan pulls off the duvet and takes a quick drink of water, exhaling deeply as he sets the glass back down. He pulls his pants down so they're hanging haphazardly off his thighs. It makes him feel like a pornstar, and he grimaces at the thought, remembering the times when he actually needed some kind of visual entertainment to get him going. Now all he needs is Phil.

Opening the drawer in his bedside table cautiously, quietly, Dan notes the way the stars sit in the sky like it's a theater and they're his audience. Lucky for his astral fans, he's going to put on a show.

Lube is poured onto his fingers messily - his hands are shaking. He's restrained himself from getting off for nearly a week, and for Dan, that's plenty of time. At the mere grip of fingers around his cock, he sucks in a sharp breath and closes his eyes, exhaling with a whispered 'Phil...'

His hand moves lazily, as if taunting him, and his hips buck up involuntarily, his body begging for more attention than it's getting. He obliges, keeping his waist away from the bed and spreading his knees, as uncomfortable and tiring as the position is. Two fingers press into him, making his teeth pull at his lip and his body shake. "Fuck," He mutters, and moves them in further, taking his hand away from his dick and resting it against the mattress for extra support.

He pushes in another finger and imagines it's Phil instead, burning through him with love and ecstacy and passion and every other cliché term Dan can think of to describe any thoughts of sex with Phil. Skin against skin, breath mingling, hushed expletives and dirty, _dirty_ promises. He continues like this for the next couple of minutes until he can't wait any longer and he pushes his fingers in further, further, finally reaching his prostate and crying out immediately. He abandons his attempts to hold himself up and falls back to the warm, sweat-coated bedsheets, thumb flicking across his slit and enticing another load moan from his lips, swollen from the grip of his teeth.

There's a creak from the hallway, and Dan freezes, not quite pleasured enough to mistake the lack of sound from Phil's room as anything else. After a few seconds of silence after the creak, he resumes, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing his mouth together to stop from letting any extra noises slip through the barrier.

Phil opens the door slowly as to not alarm his flatmate, and as usual he forgets to knock.

Mistake.

Dan notices, closes his eyes, tries to pretend he didn't see his best friend enter the room, continues as normal.

Once Phil realizes that _yes_ , those are moans, _yes_ , Dan's fingers are up his arse, and _no_ , he wasn't wrong when he thought he'd heard gasps through the door, his eyes widen and his mouth struggles to string together any coherent words, but the only coming to mind are _beautiful_ , _holy shit_ , and _oh. I just called Dan getting off beautiful._ It doesn't come as much of a surprise, but he still swallows at the thought. He clears his throat, loudly, alerting the seemingly-previously-ignorant Dan to his presence, and Dan turns his head, eyes flying open.

Phil goes with the second one. "Holy. Shit." Well, second and third, but that's insignificant in the given situation. Dan's made no move to stop his antics, and Phil just continues staring, entranced by fingers and sweat and exposed skin and brown eyes that seem to scoop him up and swallow him whole, send him swimming into a world where his cheeks are burning rosy-red and his pants are beginning to grow uncomfortably tight.

The eyes rake over Phil's body and linger for a fraction of a second longer on the slightly tented fabric than anywhere else.

Dan's lips go to form an 'o' and that 'o' opens wide until he's moaning again because _fuck_ Phil's getting turned on by this and all he can think to say is "Oh god..."

Hands clench into fists at Phil's side and he argues internally with himself.

_Stay. He's fucking gorgeous and he's makes no move to stop on your account._

_Leave. He's your best friend. Don't risk that for one night of whatever the hell this situation may turn into._

They both know which one they want, but they also know which one they need.

Desires may be impractical, but so is Dan, so he bucks his hips again and gasps, knotting his fingers in the duvet. "S-Stay-!" So Phil obeys, and he's extremely glad he did, for the next word that tumbles from Dan's lips when he hits his prostate again is his best friend's name.

Phil doesn't know what to do with his horribly lanky body, or his horribly shaky hands, so he grits his teeth and moves to sit in the 'butt chair' before Dan laughs softly and beckons him over to sit on the end of the bed.

He does so, but now Phil is the impractical one, and he's letting his emotions get the best of him. He's getting caught up in those eyes, and those fingers, and that _cock_ , jesus _fuck_. It's like a work of art, and though that sounds cheesy, it's the only way to describe it. Dan's fingers don't look quite right on it though - it's all too flushed, too hurried, too rehearsed. Phil replaces them with his own, nodding in spite of himself at the oh-so pleasant contrast of his pale skin against the red of Dan's cock.

Brown eyes are wider than the moon and about as scattered too, as they fill with confusion and lust and reflect Phil in all the glory that is him touching Dan.

Fuck Phil Lester.

Fuck him because he put those godforsaken glasses on again and they frame his face so well and seem to make the whole world look better.

Phil's hands aren't shaking anymore, he supposes that's good. His fingers move slowly, carefully, up and down the length of Dan's cock, and his other hand pins Dan's waist against the mattress, restricting his movement but failing to suppress the urge Dan feels to just fuck his fingers like he needs Phil to fuck him.

Not a word has been spoken between the two aside from the occaisional moan from Dan and a couple of hushed whimpers from Phil. They know they're fucked in both the best and worst kind of ways, and that they're going to have to deal with the insurmountable enormity of this situation in the morning, but for now they're content with simply being with each other and noting the importance of the way Dan's body rolls against the bed, and the growing erection Phil is getting just from jacking Dan off.

They're both aware of the fact that this is certainly too soon for a real fuck, but this is good enough. Dan's fingers have slowed from moving as fast as possible to lazy pushes in and out of his arse, hitting his prostate each time and mumbling whatever comes to mind. Phil continues his gentle movements and his other hand has crept across Dan's chest, playing with his nipple. Dan made to protest in the beginning, about to insist upon the fact that 'I'm not a chick, Phil!' but he decided against it and simply accepts the pleasure it brings.

Eye contact isn't even a possibility at this point, and any time it happens it's fleeting and uncertain and filled with longing. Phil's practically aching by now, and Dan's certainly no better, but they're holding off. Who on earth would feel comfortable cumming in front of their best friend after the ordeal they're going through?

Dan grits his teeth and Phil bites his lip against the pain of no release, but Dan pulls his fingers out and the stimulation coming from his nipple and his cock and his clenching muscles is too much and he cums over Phil's hand and his own chest in splotches like the moonlight, uttering a gasp and a moan as he does so. "Fuck... Phil!"

The next thing Dan does - as embarrassing as it is - is routine for him after he releases, and he doesn't even spare it a second thought. He drags a finger through his cum and sucks the liquid off, groaning in pleasure as he does so. It's after this that he realizes Phil might view it as odd and begins blushing, but the red tint in his cheeks only grows as he realizes Phil's pupils are blown wide and the movement on his cock has stopped. Phil came when Dan sucked the cum off his fingers.

They exhale together after a moment in which it seems like the whole universe has paused.

Phil steps off the bed, eyes still wide, and Dan scrambles into a sitting position, pulling the duvet over his body. Phil scratches at the back of his head, and clears his throat, nostalgia and regret already coursing through his body. Simultaneously they push hair out of their eyes, and they both smile, gazes locking for the first time that night.

"Well." "

'Well' indeed."

And with that, Phil leaves Dan's room, going back to his own to lie awake for the next couple of hours and go over every little detail once more.

Dan's mind fills with impracticalities, and he smiles to the night sky, grinning a goodbye to his watchful stars.

**Author's Note:**

> yo whats up homesizzles
> 
> im never gonna say that again 
> 
> howd you like it??? please comment if you have like questions or recommendations or anything idk bye


End file.
